


Beauty of the Ages

by moonofmorrigan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Dancing, F/M, Feasting, Good marital relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonofmorrigan/pseuds/moonofmorrigan
Summary: Thranduil returns to his wife after the Battle of the Five Armies and presents her with the necklace crafted by dwarves. A feast is planned and the private welcome home is one of the sweetest and most treasured of all.





	1. Chapter One: Greetings to the King

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any affiliation with anyone in the official circles of The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, or it's characters. No profit is being made from this writing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'm posting this from the rough draft since it is like 2 weeks late from the date I intended to finish (02/18/2017). As always there is music that helped me write through this. If you want the list, message me. I am not a Tolkien expert/scholar. All of my books about Middle-Earth are packed away somewhere – hence my “true references” are unavailable. Please forgive any inconsistencies, wrongs, and any offenses this small tale offers to it's readers. All likes, kudos, reblogs, comments/feedback are welcome.

_**Chapter One: Greetings to the King** _

 

She watched from the balcony window overlooking the forest of Mirkwood. Legolas had just informed her that her husband was finally returning from the battle he had not intended to originally fight. He had thought the dwarves dead after the fire-drake was defeated. But alas, such was not the case. Word reached her that an all out battle was being fought which her sons begged for her to let them join their father in. Forbidding it, she was ready to send a body of troops to their aid commanded by her own kin, when word again reached her that the battle was over. Ultimately, it was won at a high cost to their people. That was all she had been told of it other than the dwarf king had been slain, and her husband paid homage to him.

  


She turned from watching the paths below for a few minutes, then returned when she caught sight of a distant flutter of Elven flag and heard the distinct sound of an Elvish horn sound in the distance. She got dressed in a hurried manner, and called for the main servants that attended to them to greet him at the bridge. A feast would need to be had this night. The king had returned with the remainder of those who had fought with him! It was a time to rejoice, mourn, and honor the fallen.

  


Once word the battle was won had reached them, the great hunters in the realm went out and caught game for the feast tonight. Chefs had been planning menus for her to approve for days. Finally, she knew he would be there before nightfall, and despite her years on this earth she could hardly contain the joy it brought her, and the sheer desire to run out, even into the dangerous forest, and meet him. It was the same emotion she had every time he left the palace for such quests and battles. However, she chose to contain her emotions, and like a true lady and queen meet him at the bridge with her sons, and their servants.

  


She spent the day pacing until finally, when it would soon be time for the sun to set the familiar sound of a troops on foot and some on horseback could be heard in their rhythmic fashion. Bells were sounding in the halls. She hardly heard them. She did her best to not run to the doors. Her sons fell behind her just as quickly paced. The front hall was packed with Elves awaiting the return of their loved ones and the king. The bells fell silent even as the doors opened for her. Shining in the light of day were the armors of her kin, and upon a white stallion her love leading them on. The sound of the marching was thunderous. Shouts were heard from behind him to order the company to halt when he stopped just at the beginning of the bridge looking solemn, weary and haunted, until his eyes caught sight of her and their children behind her on the other side. The look was replaced with one of relief, a touch of joy, and above all else love. He did not issue any verbal orders to his commanders, but merely spurred his horse forward into a trot to cross the bridge, merely raising a hand to signal the company to cross and disassemble.

  


Though their kind was hardy and strong like no other, battles took a toll even on their kind. The soldiers were weary and laden from the fight, and the king's gesture was lost at first until the women and children of the families whose husbands and sons who had rode or marched out let out a cry of sheer joy,and honor to the king, then came flying out behind the queen and princes in droves causing the troops to disperse. They would bow to the royal family, but not even decorum could contain the beat of court at this moment. Everyone was home that could return.


	2. Chapter Two: Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil leads his family into the familiar domain of his realm.

The king rode his steed across acknowledging the servants with a nod of his head towards each, then when he reached her side and held a hand out to her, she took it in her own, kissing his knuckles in joy - nearly in tears. A stable boy came from the back of the party of servants and grabbed the horse's bridle then led it away after Thranduil dismounted. Thranduil grabbed her hand once more, placing his own kiss on her hand before, hand in hand, they set to walking towards their 4 sons.

  


Legolas and his younger sons bowed to him, trying to remain as their parents taught them to behave in public, but then practically knocked him over when Thranduil shook his head, and said, “This is a day to rejoice. You are not princes in this moment, but my sons.”

  


After he was able to regain some composure, he turned to the servants who were standing their ground until dismissed. Some wanting to get back to work, some wanting to just leave, and then some of the maids looking back and forth between the crowd of troops still reveling across the bridge or the others who were passing by the royal family bowing as they disappeared back in the halls. One of them he knew would keep on looking, but her love would not be on the other side to meet her. This sobered his joy and he looked at each in turn before speaking, “I am grateful to all of you for your kindness in greeting me as such. Now please,” he gestured to the other side of the bridge, “feel free to look for your loved ones, or return to your duties.”

  


He didn't have to say it twice. They dispersed at a speedy pace. He held his arm out to his wife who entwined it about his, and his sons followed behind as he stepped through the large doors. All paused as two elves who had marched out with him carried in a treasure chest, and disappeared down the pathways that would lead to the treasury.

  


He looked down at the raven haired lady at his side and smirked, “I imagine our cooks are having a fit about now.”

  


She gave him an innocent look, “I have no idea what you're talking about.” Then smiled a knowing smile.

  


“I think you do. However, considering the circumstances, I do not think they will begrudge us of our feasting tonight.” He patted her hand with a chuckle.

  


“I would not be so sure. The head chef threatened to skin her helper if she failed one more dessert.” Legolas said behind them.

  


Thranduil turned around and laughed as he seen the smirk on his face. “Is her cooking that bad?”

  


Legolas shook his head trying to keep a straight face, “No. It's worse.”

  


“Dear Valar spare us!” Thranduil exclaimed while they all chuckled at this, and he led them past the throne room and into the deeper portions of the palace where the family took their leisure. “I know you are all eager to gain my attention right now, but I wish to cleanse myself from the battle we have fought, and find rest until the feast tonight. So, please my sons, go to your rooms and make ready for the feast tonight.”

  


“Yes, father,” each elf-boy said in turn and separated from the couple to their different chambers. Thranduil and his wife continued forward down the hall silently until they reached the doors. The guards opened them for so they could enter, and suddenly it was as if all the burden and weariness that he had experienced flooded over him. His armor had never felt so heavy.

  


As if sensing it, his wife called for the maid to draw a warm bath for him, then set about undoing the ties and clasps to the armor herself before a servant came over and took over. She stood away and looked upon him silently. Her storm-grey eyes not needing to speak her mind at this moment. She was overjoyed to see him, but worried. She knew and felt the loss of their kin as he had. Those elves, even the ones whose names he would never know that had died in battle were his children. He had underestimated the situation. He meant well. He merely wished to help the people of Lake Town, and acquire more treasure to care for his own people. Plus, deep down he felt heavy. Somehow he knew the evil of Sauron would soon return. What would be the cost then?


	3. Chapter Three:  Musings of the Past and Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The queen tries to comfort the king, and he confesses his fears about the growing threat in the east.

_**Chapter Three: Musings of the Past and Future** _

  


“Tell me what ails you my love.” she finally said when he finally had undressed and was able to lower himself into the warmth of the water in the bathtub. His body ached. The battle had taken a toll physically as well.

  


He seen the grimace his wife gave him when she seen him fully unclothed and the bruises and wounds to his flesh were revealed. Even with armor, some things always got through in battle.

  


  


She wanted to help him, but could do nothing more than offer to let him speak of it. If he did not, then it meant he could not yet. He was silent for a long time. Closing his eyes from the world, and letting the waters and special salts added to it soak out his physical pains.

  


“It will return. When he does, we must be ready,” he said finally without opening his eyes. After a long moment, his eyes finally did open and he stared into her own with a look of painful resolution, “If you let the forest and earth speak as I know you do, you will feel it. The horror we have dreaded will once again march across these lands. Our people must decide what we must do to survive it.”

  


She twisted her hands nervously as she sat by the window in the dwindling light. Yes, she had felt it too. She was sure all of her people had. She only nodded and looked away.

  


Finally, feeling his eyes still on her she looked at him once more, “What will you have us do?”

  


“We will do what we must. Long have we protected these lands, I will not let him and his foul creatures overrun it and drive us out so easily.”

  


“Spoken like a true warrior,” she said with a sad smile.

  


“What would _you_ have me do, my love?”

  


She looked away, down and up, before standing and coming to his side and sitting back down. “I would have you do what you feel is best. Though I would not wish to spill any more of our kinsman's blood I know it will be done, and for such a purpose as this... I would have each of us give it all the strength and valor we can muster.”

  


He reached out and ran his fingers along her cheek, “I know what you worry most though you do not wish to sound selfish. You fear one day I will not return, or if they must face this evil as well, our sons. Please know I am not blind to that.”

  


Tears came to her eyes but she quickly wiped them away, and gave him a reassuring smile, “You know me too well. But I also know that you can not be killed so easily my dearest.”

  


He couldn't help smiling at that, “Well, I'll do my best to not be killed my love. I know you would never forgive me.”

  


“I'm glad you are aware of that.”

  


He chuckled, then fell silent again closing his eyes. Night had finally fallen. The torches and lanterns were lit, the feast would soon begin. The water was growing cool. But he didn't seem to care. She knew why. He needed to just sit there, and know he was home.

  


She returned to her perch by the window as the maids began bringing in clothes for them to wear. He chose the first outfit that was offered to him, which was a sign of his weariness. Usually it would go on for a quarter of an hour or more. He seemed more interested in her dress than anything. She finally settled on a green dress that would put even the maples in summer to shame with its color. As the undergarments for both were laid out and she watched him lay his head back again with closed eyes she couldn't help being happy he was home – despite him confirming her fears of Mordor's rising.

  


“Sing for me.” she heard him say after several long minutes of silence.

  


She merely smiled, and began a song of the coming of spring and it's joys. When she was finished, he still sat, silent, eyes closed.

  


For a moment she thought him to be sleeping until he let out a long sigh and finally stood, getting out of the bath and letting a servant wrap him in a drying cloth. This was the signal it was time for them to get dressed and go into the spotlight once more. Courtly behavior had to be observed, including during the dances.

  


Once she was dressed, and he was as well, she finally set about choosing her adornments for the evening. But he kept telling her not to wear each thing she chose. Finally, a servant arrived with a small gift bag, and he came to her side with a look like a child about to tell you the most delicious secret.

  


His voice however had more calm to it than he obviously felt. “I believe this will be more appropriate.”

He took her hand in his, and placed the silky bag in her hand. She loosened the drawstrings and emptied it's contents into her hand. A necklace beautiful in a way she could barely describe greeted her -jewels shining with the light of the stars and precious pearls inlaid in it's design.

  


“I have never seen the like of it,” she remarked then looked up at her husband. “It's beautiful.”

  


“It was a gift from the hobbit.”

  


“The hobbit?”

  


“Yes, he gave it to me in good will and friendship. I can think of no other who should wear it other than you.”

  


He took it from her hand and put it about her neck, fidgeting with the clasp for a moment before he managed it. “But perhaps you shouldn't bother wearing it.” He said, a moment later after looking her over.

  


Her brow creased in confusion and worry, “Why?”

  


“No one will notice it. They will be too busy gazing at you as if they do the stars. As they always do. None of these trinkets you adorn yourself with ever compares to you.”

  


She scoffed, “You speak of me as if I was Luthien.”

  


He bent down and laid a kiss on her shoulder, “ _You_ are _my_ Luthein. I dare say, no matter what is believed about Elrond's daughter Arwen, _you_ are the beauty of the age, and all that follow.”

  


She giggled like a young elf maid at this while at the same time making sure her voice held chiding in it, “Oh, go on.... Thranduil my dear, if I didn't know any better I would say you were trying to steal a kiss from me tonight.”

  


He outright laughed at this, then gathered her in his arms, “I intend to steal more than a kiss tonight.” Then bent down to lay a hungry kiss on her lips.

  



	4. Chapter Four: The Feast of Heroes and Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast commences, and husband and wife muse over their children.

_**Chapter Four: The Feast of Heroes and Kings** _

The feast and celebration was grand, even if the heroes were weary. Thranduil and his wife watched with the usual amusement as several elf maids attempted to catch Legolas' or their other next oldest son's eye. Legolas, who had grown weary of the affair, finally chose a young Silvan elf whom most knew genuinely had an interest in him as a person, not a prince. He spent the rest of his night by her side, disappointing many. His other son enjoyed the attention of the many maids, and spent his time entertaining as many of them as possible. The other children were too young to even think about women at that point in their lives, so they spent their time running about the hall playing games with the others.

 

Finally the announcement that the food was ready was sent to him, and those in the hall took their seats. The food was brought and was met by everyone in the halls and beyond with not only awe but a deeper appreciation that usual. Venison, hare, leeks, an array of lettuces and greens, stews, puddings, fruit and berries... every thing they could imagine was paraded before them before being set down on the banquet tables. The king, queen and their sons (his two oldest joined by their pretty companions which they settled on earlier at their sides), were given the first cuts of meat. The first portions of the vegetables and stews. The desserts and fruits presented later after they finished each course. Thranduil insisted on the finest of his wine stores being used, rather than the usual vintages that were shared during these feasts.

 

He was aware of the guards protecting them with their ever watchful gazes not unto the feast, but outward, and the elves serving them their plates more than ever this night. The battle had reawakened his senses to the lives of those about him, and the servants found him thanking them, truly thanking them with eye contact and a sincere smile each time even the smallest deed was performed for him or his family. As if picking up on it, they as whole joined in, their younger sons confused by it, but his eldest, and his loveliest gem of all – his wife, understanding it. She had always paid such attention to the servants – her mother being descended from one of them. Legolas, sensible to not only his mother's background, but what his father had returned from but hours before, understood it all too well. Soon, Thranduil mused, his eldest would be old enough to ride into battle if the drums and horns of war should call them.

 

They watched the feasting, then the entertainers in turn, both king and queen tempered in their enjoyment. For him, the horrors of battle still were close in his mind, and it was hard to settle in to calm. The only thing that steadily relaxed him would be the occasional gentle squeeze of his hand that he would feel from his wife when she would reach over to him. Once the entertainers were finished with their antics, he found himself catching her eye when he looked over and smiled a genuine smile. Her cheeks pinked for moment before she looked away returning it. He took her hand in his and brushed a kiss on her hand. It made her look at him once more with a shy twitch at the ends of her lips before he stood and glanced down the table at his sons. Legolas snickered and went back to his companion, his youngest, made a disgusted face before turning away and starting to bounce in his seat with the desire to get up and rove about. This meant that a speech was in order, then the dances. It would do no good to keep the young ones pinned to their seats any longer.

 

He stood, making the sounds around him die for a moment. He raised his hand to the wine bearer, and this set all the others in charge of this task in motion. All goblets were filled. Thranduil nodded in thanks, and at seeing the various servants retreat back to their spots standing at the walls, he raised his cup and held it aloft.

 

“A great price was paid. Many of our kin mourn this day. Even though the blessed Valar offers the promise of rebirth and rejoining, it does not settle the sadness many of you surly feel this day. Many of you have lost a friend, a brother, a father, a son,” he looked about and found the eyes of the elf maid from earlier in the day whose eyes were misting over, “a husband.” He seen her look down and away trying to hide tears, as he, himself, looked down in sympathy, and then away at the others who all wore solemn faces, “None of our kin spilled their blood in vain. Know that. Raise your cups with me in their honor and memory. Until we meet them again in the west and the lands of the Valar.”

 

There was a raising of cups all around, the sounds of drinking, the occasional sob heard, their replacement on the tables by many. He looked over at the musicians and the waved to them. They nodded, and began to play. He held a hand out to his lady.

 

She looked up at him in surprise, then recovered, and stood, laying her hand in his. Legolas stood next offering his hand to his companion, and their next to oldest son followed with his. He led his wife out to the dance floor and bowed. The music picked a steady timed beat and on the third, the couples began their movements. As was customary, the rest of those present did not join in until the partners exchanged hands, and were joined in a single line of steps, then returned to their partners*. Couples began to file in, and soon the center floor was abuzz with couples twirling, skipping and stepping in time to the music.

 

They finished the first set, then once they had rejoined each other, left the dancing to the others on the floor. They both looked about the room, noting where their children were before retreating back to their table overlooking the gathering. The youngest was off in the corner with his friends playing some type of skipping game. The next was off to the side watching the dancers with interest. It dawned on Thranduil that this young one would be entering puberty soon. The eldest two were preoccupied on the dance floor with their partners. Or rather Legolas was completely preoccupied with his partner. The other was friendly to every maid who twirled around him that would catch his eye. Thranduil shook his head and returned to his seat, his wife on his arm until they sat.

 

“Do you think we need to worry about that?” His wife asked softly looking out over the dancers from their elevated seats.

“Which one?” Thranduil asked as he brought his goblet to his lips and took a long drink.

“Even I am not sure. Both really. I worry less about Legolas than our little heart-breaker over there if I have to choose,” she said bringing her own cup up to drink.

“Why do you worry less about one than the other?” Thranduil questioned, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

She considered for a moment, watching Legolas dance with his partner for a few moments. “Legolas knows his responsibilities, and I trust his judgment and heart. He is ready to find a mate if he desires.” She looked at her husband next, “If he chooses this Silvan maid as his mate, I will not dissuade him. I would not have him deal with the same ridiculous problems we suffered at the hands of our own parents.”

Thranduil was silent for a while before he answered, watching his son and the lady retire from the dance, smiling and going to a corner, hand in hand. He remembered the utter defiance he had to use against his own father and mother when he decided to pledge himself to his wife, even fleeing the palace and going into the wild – consummating their marriage under the stars and the canopy of trees rather than a warm bed with soft sheets and lovely pillows while the people about them rejoiced at their union. He shook his head, “I would not let him suffer in the same way either. If this maid is his choice, so be it. The other on the other hand...” He found himself rolling his eyes as he watched his next to eldest lead two maids from the dance floor laughing and joining a group of elves by the stairwells.

 

“Yes, I would rather he chose one partner at a time as well,” she said with an aggravated tone.

 

Thranduil shrugged, trying to make light of it despite the fact that he wasn't very happy with it either, “I suppose he will outgrow it.”

 

His wife didn't answer, but instead threw him a grim expression that conveyed doubt and exasperation.

 

He sat back in his seat watching all those below him. The weight of the battle somewhat lifted, yet weariness wassetting quickly in once more. He knew it was early in the night yet, but he was exhausted. He noticed many of those who had rode or marched out with him were already retiring. He glanced at his wife, and on impulse laid his hand on top of hers letting their entwined fingers rest on her thigh. The small warmth it brought eased the weight on his chest even more, and he felt his body, tense to some degree all night since the feast began, relax. He felt her eyes on him. Worrying and trying to remain silent about all that went through her mind and heart for the sake of the those about them. Decorum as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch any dance in any movie inspired by a Jane Austen novel. If you can't abide that, then think about sophisticated square dancing. You'll get what I mean here. Waltzes and basically any dances that you enjoyed with solely one partner is a somewhat new concept. You would have “country dances”, and “cotillions”, and others. Eh, just look it up if you're interested. :P I know the description isn't that great, but I haven't slept beyond 4 hours in 2 days. @_@ So, what I see in my head is probably not coming out right in written word. Hence why I tell you to reference the above.


	5. Chapter Five: Of History and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The couple retires and the queen thinks over their past and future. Ending with love.

_**Chapter Five: Of History and Love** _

  


As she looked upon him, she pursed her pink lips together to remain silent, seeing the tense shoulders begin to fall in ease, but her husband's eyes still clouded with the remnants of the battle, and whatever else was troubling him. She could detect the hints of exhaustion he so expertly hid from everyone else. Yet she knew he would not retire until she bide him to. She also knew he had to remain for a while longer. They all did, save the youngest of their children who could be gathered in the arms of nannies and carted off with the excuse of needing rest.

  


They spent much of the rest of the night silent, fingers entwined together, overlooking the dancers, feast goers, children playing, their own children going about their business. Finally, she drew their linked hands out from under the table and looked to her husband whose increased sighs and placid expression were beginning to wane betraying his tiredness, and broke their silence.

  


“You are weary yourself from the toils of the journey and battle, along with grief. Let us retire so that you may rest undisturbed,” she said in a quiet voice – yet being the queen, it seemed to echo about the room causing the hall to fall silent at her words.

He looked upon her with grateful but weary eyes, and nodded. “As you wish my love.” It was all he could think of to say in his exhaustion, and stood, then both offering the customary gesture of farewell and good night, followed her, hand in hers out of the room and into the halls.

  


Servants lowered their eyes and bid them goodnight. People lingering in the halls for some reason or another bowed or lowered their eyes in custom as they passed. She was always aware of it. They had done much to banish certain useless, even demeaning things expected of their subjects, but some things held on. She and her husband ruled by their people's choice, not by default as many of the others in the realms beyond their borders did.

  


Her father was a lower class lord. Her mother had been a lady-in-waiting to her grandmother, descended from well-to-do merchants. Their marriage had been a struggle from the time they had caught each others eye. Both families objected out of reason for station. Her father and mother did not want her to deal with the issues they had when they decided to marry. She was not suitable for a prince in the eyes of the Elven courts. Another lord perhaps, but not a prince. His father and mother deftly agreed, and attempted to not only send her to Rivendell, but marry her off to someone else more suitable that Oropher and his wife, and her own parents considered more appropriate, gilded with promises that he would treat her well.

  


When this was revealed to both lovers, they stole away into the night, deep into the forests, nearly to Lothlorien, and spoke their vows to the other with the stars, moon, and blessed trees as their witnesses. They were found two days later, asleep in the others arms, and the consummation of their pledge to the other was apparent to those who had found them. They were brought back to the palace. Both parents raged at their children. Oropher even threatening to disinherit Thranduil. Hers just merely expressing their disbelief, but finally, knowing it useless as what was done was done, they had to relent. Oropher's rage softened finally by the understanding of his queen who could clearly tell it was love that bound them, not defiance. With Oropher's heart softened and finally giving his blessing, she was officially accepted as the princess and consort to the heir.

  


When war first drew her husband away from her, she had a horrid feeling of sickness. She knew something bad would happen. When word had reached them that Oropher was slain, she feared for her own husband. Yet he would be brought back to her, his body and heart carrying the scars of the battles he had fought, but alive, blessed be the Valar. He was crowned, and they started their regency as the rulers of the realm.

  


Now another battle had been fought. Unconsciously, she touched her free hand to the necklace about her neck. Feeling the hard jewels, she sighed, noting a touch of warmth to the crystals from her body heat briefly before taking her fingertips away. He had gone to help others, and hopefully gain more wealth to replenish that which had been spent over the years. Instead he was met with a battle. He and his allies had won the battle, but it seemed not the war.

  


A new war would be stirred upon the land. She felt it deep within. More Elvish blood would be spilled. She knew as well that both her husband and at least one of her sons would be brought into it. The idea of it sent a shiver through her body. She seen him cast a look at her as the tremor was felt by their linked hands, and gave him a reassuring smile.

  


Deciding to turn her thoughts to the here and now, she grasped his hand a little more firmly as they reached their chambers. While most courtiers did not share their chambers no matter how in love they were with the other, even Oropher and his queen had not, she and Thranduil always had. At first, it was because of the opposition their families had encroached upon them, but once that was settled they just continued to do so despite what their families tried to tell them about decorum. What was the point? They would just end up spending the night in the same room anyway.

  


As she considered all this, they entered, each shed their heavy cloak, and mercifully had found another warm bath had been drawn in the bath house. Their servants helped them out of their garments, and laid out their robes and night dressings before milling about lowering the light in lamps and adding more kindling to the fires. Her hair and his were braided before entering the bath for the night, then they filed out one by one with bows and curtseys finally leaving them alone in the bath house. They helped the other wash, delighting in the soft sensual sensations it would occasionally afford, but noting her husband's ever growing weariness, she did not let it become a burning flame to be extinguished by a union of bodily love. She knew he would oblige, even in his exhaustion, but his enjoyment of it would be tainted.

  


Finally, when the water began to lose it's warmth they left it, dried off, and dressed for the night refusing to call for servants to help them. As they each lay down to sleep in the way of the Elves, she drew herself close to him, and he gathered her in his arms.

  


“You are my life dearest,” she whispered, not knowing if he had already fell with in the realms of sleep and dreams or not.

  


“As you are mine,” he whispered back then went still and his breathing heavy, falling into sleep.

  


She let her mind wander, until dreams found her as well.

  


  


  


~*~*~*~

  


  


The sky was just turning pink with the uprising of the sun when his awareness roused him to the world about him. A dream mingled with the past and the present wove itself in and out of his consciousness for several long moments, before it disappeared altogether. He looked down, seeing his wife's black hair mingling with his white gold on his chest. Her arm was draped about his waist as she breathed in and out in steady, unheard intakes as she slept. Her eyes still open as Elves usually slept, but clearly in a dream state, he chose to look upon her and only stretch his muscles as needed. She continued to sleep for several more minutes as he stroked her hair and then she awoke. Nuzzling her face into his chest before blinking, and looking up at him.

  


He smiled sweetly at her as she lifted herself up on her elbow and rested her head on her hand. She returned his smile, and placed her other hand on his chest over his heart.

  


“Do you feel more at peace now that you have rested, my dearest?” she asked in a soft voice.

  


He nodded in confirmation, realizing that he did. He had not thought about much of anything else but his wife and children while he waited for her to awaken.

“I am glad.” A suggestive smile came to her face, “You know, I never did give you a proper welcome home.” Her hand slid beneath the covers and began to touch him in the intimate ways only she would know to coax him into a state of want.

  


Feeling the sensations begin to course through his blood and a smile coming to his own face he confirmed, “No, you did not.”

  


She let a wicked laugh escape her lips at this.

He wound his hand about the nape of her neck and brought her lips to his as he rolled them over and lay her gently down beneath him. He kissed her in drawn out passion instead of an all consuming fiery manner, letting each small caress of the lips becoming deeper and filled with more longing. He kept his touches soft and lingering, roving about each part of her in the manner only someone who knew the others body like their own could, reveling in the joy of rediscovery of this beauty– though their time apart was short compared to some.

  


He took his time with her and she with him, relishing each touch and caress and kiss as if it would be the last. Days were going to come to their lands that he knew would either mark a new beginning for his lands and the indeed, the whole of Middle-Earth, or the end of all that was good and true would come to pass. But at that time and moment, he wanted to savor and cherish one of the things that he loved and held precious in the world and make every moment count.

  


It would be well into the day before they would be ready for the servants to come and see to their usual morning rituals.

  


_~*~*~*~Finish~*~*~*~_


End file.
